Just a Dash of Cinnamon
by CrystallineMaple
Summary: When Natalia Arlovskaya finds herself in fincancial debt, she becomes a maid for Alfred Jones, the wealthy son of a crime boss. However, with inherited money, family secrets, and lives on the line, she finds herself in over her head. Multiple pairings. Ch 5: Natalia quickly realizes stalking Ludwig wasn't a good idea.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Starting another new story! I've been brainstorming a lot lately. Please, please, please review. It really does motivate me to write more and brightens my day a bit, too. Enjoy the first chapter!**

Chapter 1: First Encounters

It was a rainy day this all started, not a drizzly day, but one where rain pours down in a torrent and if you stand still, you might drown. It was on a day like this where I, Natalia Arlovskaya, had my first of three run-ins with the ('infamous', I suppose) Alfred F. Jones.

My family and I moved to the United States from Belarus when I was eight years old, a month from turning nine. I had already been taught English, so that wasn't a struggle, but no one would befriend me because they said I looked scary and I would probably kill them. Stinging accuasations, but they helped me build the barrier I have now. America wasn't like Belarus. It was a wasteland of broken dreams, indifference, and burgers. At least for me, it was.

I am from a relatively poor family. My father passed away four years after we moved to America, when I was fourteen, and I slipped into depression. He died in a car crash.

They called it painless.

After my father died, my mother started drinking. Every day it was the same story, I'll put the bottle down tomorrow, don't you worry your pretty little head. Don't you know you'll get wrinkles? And so on. If it weren't for me working two part-time jobs and paying for all of my expenses, we'd be dead broke. But I'm getting off track.

As I said, it was a rainy day - a day in October - when I saw Alfred Jones for the first time. In fact, I was walking home from school. The pouring rain wasn't looking so good, but I had missed the bus because I had to stay late to work on a group project.

Basically where I do all the work because I'm the smart one and the others sit on their asses and eat food.

(Side note: I asked for some chips, and they wouldn't even give me one.)

I couldn't waste money on things like public transportation, plus there are too many freaks on those. No, walking home was easy. I just didn't have an umbrella or anything like that. The worst part, though there's no use complaining, is that everyone in my class has a car, yet I can't get rides because still no one likes me.

It's alright. I don't care. I've never needed help from anyone else.

I frown and trudge onward, using my old Literature textbook as a makeshift umbrella - I would have brought mine but the morning was sunny - when a black car that must have cost five times more than my apartment rolls up next to me and slows. "Hey, you wanna ride?"

I know right away this guy is probably a douche. Fancy car? Check. Annoying 'I-got-swag' voice? Check.

"No," I say, and the guy is obviously surprised.

"Oh. Are you - are you sure?"

I scowl, glad I've put him off. "Alright, fine, but let me warn you - you try anything funny, I'll slit your throat open." I take a knife out of my purse without a pause and hold it up.

He frowns. "Woah, chill. You can get arrested for bringing weapons to school, you know. Where do you live?" he asks before I get in.

"Silver Creek Apartments."

Douche Guy looks the doors to his cars, and when I reach for the handle, I make a noise, annoyed. "You giving me a ride or not? I don't have all day."

"No way am I driving to that neighborhood. I'll get slaughtered. So will my car."

"So you're a wimp, basically? Because I walk there every day, and you can't even drive in once." I throw my textbook back on top of my head. "Whatever. What did I expect? I really don't care. Stop wasting my time if you're not going to"-

He throws the door open, ignoring the rain splattering his leather interior. "Get in."

"What?" I bark. "No. You"-

"Quit being a bitch," he says. "Just get in." And that's the story, ladies and gentlemen, of how I met Mr. Alfred F. Jones.

One painstakingly long car ride later: "Mama, I'm home," I call, using my key to unlock the door and throwing a brisk, one-handed wave at Alfred as he pulls away quickly. He did drive me after all, but he wasn't a happy camper. Neither was I. I know he was scared of me, probably thinking I was a psycho who lived in a bad neighborhood. Actually, my apartments aren't dangerous, really, they're just not in the nicest part of town. They're cheap.

I set down my soaking wet stuff, change into a T-shirt and running shorts, and wrap a towel around my shoulders. "Mama, are you drunk? I swear"-

"I'm not drunk." The door swings open and there stands my mother, shaking rain off of her shoulders. She doesn't look how she normally does - hollow circles under her eyes, hair a rat's nest - but she has on her very best red lipstick, a stunning blue dress, high-heels, and her glossy blonde hair hangs in waves.

"Where the heck were you?" I ask. "What happened to you?"

She smiles. "I got a job."

I feel a real smile spreading across my face. "A job? Mama, that's wonderful! What is it?"

"Waitress," she says. "I know I won't make that much, but it's a lot better than doing nothing."

"No - of course it is!" I clasp my hands together, and for the first time since I was fourteen and Papa died, I wrap her in a giant hug. I haven't smiled so much in ages.

I haven't been so happy since Belarus.

* * *

The next day, as I'm walking to school, I find the world blinding and beautiful. The leaves on all the trees are swirling down to the ground, bright red and orange and yellow. People are leaving pumpkins on their doorstep for Halloween, which is approaching soon. The sky is still gray and cloudy, but the only sign of the storms yesterday are puddles on the ground.

When I get into school, students from all grades of the high school are crowded around the lockers, talking.

"What's happening?" I ask a girl in tenth grade. I'm in eleventh, so I don't know her.

"You know North View High, right?" she asks, which is the next high school over.

"Yeah."

The sophomore is talking quickly, her hands making small, excited movements. "Some kid over there got busted with loads of drugs, so police are checking things out. You better hand over your backpack to a cop. You get a slip after they've checked you and your locker and stuff."

"Okay, thanks." I walk over to hand my bookbag over, and I remember the threat I made to Alfred yesterday - _If you try anything funny, I'll slit your throat open_ - and my heart drops in panic.

I didn't take my knives out of my bag.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: To anyone out there who took the time to read, fav, follow, and/or review, thank you! Question of the day: Does anyone here eat seaweed? Weird question, I know, but you can buy them in those plastic packets and it's delicious. Ahem, anyways, enjoy chapter two!**

Chapter 2: Second Chances

I have no time to turn and run because the crowd of students has formed several lines, and I find myself in one of them, bordering a meltdown.

"Your bag, please, miss?" an officer asks when I get to the head of the line, and with shaking hands, I hand over my shoulder bag. He shuffles things around a bit, then says, "Okay." And I know he's found the knives.

Instead, he hands the bag back to me and says, "You're good to go. Here's your slip." And he hands me a piece of paper, signaling to the next person in line.

I sigh in such relief, no doubt would I have gotten arrested and expelled for bringing a weapon even it was just an accident, and I sit down gratefully at my desk for the first class of the day, opening up my purse. A yellow post-it note is lying on my stuff, and I don't know what it is - it's not mine, at least - so I take it out and unfold it. Scrawled messily in an unmistakably guy-ish handwriting is:

_Café Étoile at 4:30. Oh, and don't bring weapons. -AFJ_

At 4:30 sharp, I am at the Café Étoile, which is a cute, welcoming café on a busy city road, but inside, it doesn't feel so rushed. It smells like coffee and cream and baking bread, with rows of red velvet cupcakes and pastries lining the shelves. I take a sip of my coffee. I splurged, because after all, Mama's got a job, and it's only one coffee.

It isn't until 4:36 that Alfred stumbles into the café and orders a latte, then walks over and sits down across from me, shaking rain from his hair. The dreary gray clouds have opened fire on the world, and droplets are showering from the sky.

"Hey," he says.

"Hello," I reply. "Are you going to explain why I found this note in my bag today?"

"Don't take this the wrong way, but"- Alfred drops one of my daggers on the table and I widen my eyes - "you're sort of a violent psycho"- he drops a throwing knife - "and girls shouldn't be that way"- I see my black-handled knife fall from his grip - "so I took your knives"- out comes the serrated blade one - "And here they are."

"You stole my stuff!" I hiss, shoving the four knives into my bag.

"Yeah, but you had that drug check, right? You'd better be glad I took them, or you'd be in jail."

"That's not"- I pause. "How did you know my school had a drug check? You don't go to my school."

Alfred nods. "Ahh, yes, but I do happen to have a younger brother attending your school. He didn't want to go to any fancy private school, so my parents let him go to the local high school."

"Any fancy private school?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, yeah, dude. My parents have loads of cash. But no fancy private school for my brother - err, my half-brother - yeah. He goes to your school."

"And who is your brother?"

Alfred smiles. "Matthew Williams."

I choke on my coffee. "No way." But I do see the resemblance. Matthew's in my grade, in eleventh grade, and we're both social outcasts. This, however, does not mean we are friends. We are simply alone together... but not together, if that makes sense. "Okay, but there's no way you could have known to take the knives out before."

He laughs. "Maybe I did. Maybe I didn't. Maybe I just wanted to annoy you and it turned out better than planned. Doesn't matter."

"Whatever." I sit back. "Is that all you wanted to say?"

"I just wanted to return your stuff to you."

"And you did."

"I did."

There is nothing more to say, so I stand up and leave. I am not trying to be mean, I am trying to prevent awkwardness, and it works. Sort of. Until the rain hits me in my face and I think off the mile-long walk I have home. Ah well. Nobody ever said life was fair.

* * *

"Natalia, why are you so late? And your clothes are all wet." My mother is standing at the counter, actually cooking dinner. Something must have happened to her, like maybe she was replaced by an alien or something.

"Sorry," I say. "I was meeting a friend."

"A guy or a girl?"

"Mama, it was Mei Xiao. Remember, that nice Asian girl I did my Literature report with in September?" I lie. None of this is true, except that Mei is Asian and a girl. Nice? I have no clue.

"Oh, her! She's such a sweet girl. Is she doing okay?"

_What? This is weird. Mama's... interested in my life. I feel uncomfortable. _And I didn't tell her I was meeting a guy, even though it wasn't exactly my choice, because she'd probably lecture me.

"She's fine," I say. "I've got a lot of homework, though."

"Alright. Dinner in thirty."

I flop on to my bed, the smell of chicken and spices floating down the hall, and take out my phone. I just got the service back when I started my second job a few months ago, thank goodness.

_6:47 - Lovino Vargas: Hey, bastard._

Without really thinking about it, I smile. Lovi is nearly my only friend. We bonded over the hate of many people, and he's one of the few people I can tolerate. And I, him.

_6:48 - Me: Hello, Lovi. How's the old Antonio?_

His boyfriend, of sorts.

_6:48 - Lovino Vargas: Fine... how's the old Russian?_

_6:49 - Me: IVAN is fine, thank you very much. Well, he's ignoring me, but... _

Ivan Braginsky is the person I am in love with, but he is content with ignoring me and exchanging warm glances with Katyusha Braginskaya and the like. Lovino says I can do so much better.

But... what if I can't?


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Sorry I haven't updated this in a couple of weeks! I see a couple of people have favorited/followed this story. Thank you so much! Don't forget to review, too - I'd like to know what you all are thinking! **

Chapter 3: Third Time's the Charm

Halloween Day.

I am excited, because I get to dress up like a French Maid. Hold on. Let me rephrase. I am not happy _because _I'm dressed as a French Maid - ew - I'm happy because Francis Bonnefoy gave me four hundred dollars to dress up _as_ French Maid. Jackpot.

And really it's not that hard - just put on the damn dress, the stockings, the heels, the ridiculous, lacy bow, grit your teeth and bear it for four hundred dollars. There's a bonus, too - because everyone wears their costumes to school, it still had to be school appropriate, so it's not like the costume is very suggestive or anything.

I make sure Mama doesn't see it, walk to school, and get several catcalls from dozens of guys driving by in cars. I throw them all the finger.

As I'm walking by the Café Étoile, Lovino Vargas catches up with me.

"Nice costume," I say. "You look particularly dangerous today."

"As do you."

"Touché."

Lovino is dressed as someone from the mafia. It's a brilliant idea, too, because now he can act like he wants to kill people, and everyone will think he's just personifying his costume - ha!

People stare as we walk by. It's an odd combination - a French Maid and a mafia boss.

"Hey, are you going to that party today?" Lovino asks.

I snort. "A party? You have to ask? Of course I'm not going."

"Come on, Natalia. Quit being such a damn homebody. Besides, if you don't go, I'll be forced to go with Feliciano and that macho potato."

"For God's sake, Lovino, think these things over before you agree to them! Why do you even want to go to the party, anyway?" He doesn't reply, and I know. "Ohhh, is Antonio going to be there? Is that it? Well, fine, I'll go."

"Sh-shut up, Natalia! That's not why I want to go at all. Cheh! You know what, let's just go to my house and watch scary movies and prank call people."

"Oh no, you're not getting out of this." Inspired by a moment of giddiness, I link my arm through his and say, "This is gonna be great, ahahaha!"

* * *

Francis is true to his word, and I find four hundred dollars in my locker. Smiling, I leave it there and make a mental note to collect it after school. Costumes are interesting. Feliks, a guy in one of my classes, used it as an excuse to wear a dress to school, something he normally shouldn't be doing. For once, I search for Matthew Williams. He doesn't notice me.

The day goes by pretty slowly, considering it's a Friday, and when school gets out, I walk home with Lovino. I can tell his brother is terrified of me - he's dressed as a werewolf, and, okay, he looks pretty adorable - but he says, "Ragazza, you're very pretty."

I smile, say thanks, and I don't think he's _that_ scared of me anymore. Whatever.

"Who's hosting?" I ask, flopping down on the couch as Lovino turns on the TV.

"I don't know the guy, but he invited practically our entire school. Well, eleventh and twelfth grades, at least. He lives in some huge mansion or whatever."

I have never been in a mansion. I wonder if Lovino does. I live in a tiny apartment and I have two jobs; Lovino lives in a normal, two-story home with his parents and brother, and has no financial troubles, but isn't _rich. _

"So I take it Feliciano is coming?"

"And he's bringing Ludwig Beilschmidt." Lovino adds unnecessary spitting noises to the name, trying his absolute hardest to do an extremely guttural German accent, and I laugh at his attempt.

Around 7:00, we leave for the party, still dressed in our costumes. The Vargas brothers say a good-bye to their parents, and I thank them for letting me come over. They really like me. I have no clue why. Thankfully, we don't have to walk because Lovino is driving his father's car, and I have shotgun.

"We have to pick up the macho potato," Lovino groans, turning the wheel and swerving on to Ludwig's street.

"Oh my gosh, Ludwig's dressed as vampire, and Feli's a werewolf. Is it a Twilight reference?" I tease as Ludwig walks out of his house.

"Don't even!" Lovino snaps, adjusting his tie.

Ludwig is being super OCD about getting to the location of the party, and he is a backseat driver. "You ran the Stop sign!" "Slow down here!" "Don't hit that dog!... Or that small kid!" So annoying.

I can tell Lovino has had enough, because he barks, "Shut the hell up, Potato!"

I laugh into my hand, but freeze when we arrive at the destination. People mull about outside, sipping beer, chatting, laughing, but that's not what catches my attention. It _is_ a mansion, and a giant one at that. Three stories tall, elegant white pillars in the front, a pool in the back, a sweeping garden of tulips and daffodils. I smile when I see sunflowers. I wish I could give them to Ivan.

"You thinking about your Russian, ragazza?" Lovino asks.

"Of course," I reply, walking up the steps to the ornate, frosted-glass front door. "Let's look for him and Antonio, okay?"

"More guests!" someone from inside calls, and I hear the bass of music thumping out of speakers everywhere. I push open the door, and we find ourselves in a giant hallway - the floor is granite tile, and a delicate chandelier hangs from the ceiling. A stairway leads up and up and up.

There are other students from my school, there are students from North View High, our neighboring high school; there are upperclassmen, underclassmen, there are students that are probably in college.

"Wait, who did you say the host was?" I shout at Lovino over the music.

He shrugs. "I don't know! Matthew Williams' brother?"

I feel my heart drop.

I just walked into Alfred Jones' Halloween party.

"Hey, Natalia, right?" I jump when I feel hands on my shoulder.

I turn. "Alfred Jones," I snap, looking around for Lovino. He's gone.

"Dude, I can't believe it's only been three days since we saw each other! And that costume? Drop dead sexy."

I frown. Maybe I should have taken up Lovino's offer and just stayed at his house and watched movies. In retrospect, that probably would have been a smarter idea. Dammit.

"Well," Alfred says, his hand still on my shoulder, "come with me."

"Why?"

"There are... some people I'd like you to meet."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thank you guys for supporting this story! Please keep reviewing and such - and wish me luck on my finals, which are coming up soon. Fingers crossed! **

Chapter 4: New Discoveries

"I have to go, though," I snap, swatting Alfred's hand off of my shoulder.

I will say, at least he has the decency to step away when a girl shoves him away. "Why?" he asks. "You just got here - like, two minutes ago. I saw you walk inside with your friend not long ago."

"Yeah, well, we were outside for a while," I lie.

He frowns. "But... don't you need money?"

"Excuse me?" I snarl in irritation. "Why would you say that?"

"Reasons Why I Think Natalia Arlovskaya Needs Money: Go," he says. "One: You live in Silver Creek Apartments." He holds up a finger. "Two: You don't have a car. Three: Someone paid you to wear that costume."

"Okay, well, I think you're a nitwitted moron who spends too much time thinking about me," I fire back. "And how did you know I was paid to wear this? Another one of your ridiculous hunches, like with my knives and that drug check the other day?"

Alfred looks amused. "Like I said, Natalia, you underestimate how many connections I have - and still, you know nothing about me. I'm offering you a way to get money. Now, why don't you come with me and meet these dudes?" He gives me an entertained look. I cede and comply, sighing, and follow Alfred down one of the sweeping, extravagant marble hallways and into a black-and-white color-schemed kitchen, filled with fancy new appliances and people chatting, laughing, and sipping drinks. The combination of the chatter of people and the noisy music makes it almost impossible to hear anything.

"Over here," Alfred says, dragging me to the kitchen table. A fortune of US currency sits in the middle of the table, and the people sitting around the table are playing an intense game of poker, arguing in French. Finally, one of the people says something, and the card players break into a face-off of the English variation.

"Mathieu, you cheat!"

"I d-do not!"

"Would you wankers just quit your whining about losing? I mean, oh, well. Money's mine."

"Matthew? Francis?" I exclaim, surprised I didn't recognize them sooner.

Francis looks up to me and winks. "Hello, ma chérie. I didn't think you would show up! Nice dress."

"Yeah, nice four hundred dollars," I reply, and Francis chuckles. "You have such wit, Natalia. I like it."

The third card-player snorts. "Oh, don't listen to him. He'll flirt with anything that moves - and things that don't. I'm Arthur Kirkland. I don't think I know you, do I?"

"No. I'm Natalia Arlovskaya," I reply, glancing at his giant eyebrows. It's hard not to stare. "I go to school with Matthew and Francis." I turn to Alfred. "You know I knew these people already, except for Arthur. What was the point of this?"

"Just wait," he says. "Iggy, Francis, Mattie, tell Natalia here about the maid thing."

"Oh!" Francis laughs. "I knew it. And you look the part!" he says, motioning at my dress.

"Wh-what?" I growl.

"We spend a good deal of time here," Arthur says, laying his hand of cards down and taking a sip of whiskey. "A couple of weeks ago, Mrs. Jones fired Alfred and Matthew's housekeeper... Ana, was it?"

"Anya," Matthew says.

"Yes, Anya," Arthur continues. "Anyway, they've been looking for a new one. And since Alfred mentioned this to you, I assume you need money? Or a job, maybe?"

I raise an eyebrow. "You want me to clean your house?" I ask, turning back to Alfred. "What's the catch?"

Alfred snickers. "The catch?" He and Matthew exchange a glance. "The catch, I suppose... you've got to stay out of any trouble here."

"Trouble, eh?" Matthew murmurs. "Funny way to put it, Alfred."

I ignore them. "And you'd pay me?"

"Of course," Alfred says. "Hmm... I think four-hundred has a nice ring to it. That's how much you got paid to wear that dress... so how about we pay you four hundred dollars a week?"

I touch the wall, leaning on it for support. "Excuse me? Did you say four hundred dollars _a week?" _

"Yeah."

"Done."

"Good. Come after school on Monday."

"Fine, but I can't work on Tuesdays, Thursdays, or weekends," I say. Those days, I have my other jobs.

"Okay," Alfred says. "That's fine, as long as you can clean the whole house in three days."

"I can."

Francis laughs. "Oh, Natalia, we'll be seeing a lot more of each other from now on..."

I pause, and there is a brief interlude in conversation. "You and Arthur work here, too?"

"Oh, no," Arthur answers. "Like I'd ever work for their family. Burgers everywhere! And Matthew will all of his maple syrup spillage? No, too many setbacks. I do come here often, however, and drink tea while I write and I even allow Alfred to be noisy in the background."

"Allow me?" Alfred snorts. "I live here, man."

Francis nods. "And Mr. Williams and Mrs. Jones do love my cooking," he laughs. "Mostly, though, we come here to hang out. Haven't you ever heard of the Face Household?"

"Should I have?" I ask.

Francis raises an eyebrow. "Well, Mademoiselle, I suppose that depends on you. However, should you ever find yourself questioning the term, here we are." He smiles and waves his arm, motioning at himself, Alfred, Arthur, and Matthew. "Now, we have a game of cards to get back to, don't we?"

Alfred sits down next to his younger brother and casts one last glimpse of me. "See you Monday!" he calls.

I elbow my way back through the crowd, trying to get back to the main foyer, when I run into someone familiar.

"H-hello, Natalia!"

I bite back a groan of frustration. I had really hoped to find Lovino and get out. Instead, I've run face-to-face with Toris Laurinaitis, my admirer since I moved to the United States, known for his nervousness, and possibly one of the most annoying people I know.

"Uh, hi," I say, searching the room for Lovino.

"A-are you here alone?"

"No."

"Oh, t-that's nice! Whoever got to come here with you is, uhm, very lucky. Who did you"-

"Lovino Vargas," I reply. "Toris, have you seen Ivan?"

"I-I-Ivan? No, and I p-pray I won't!"

I mentally roll my eyes. Why Toris is so petrified of Ivan, I've no clue. He and his two imbecile friends - Eduard and Raivis - are all scared silly. How anyone could be scared of those beautiful eyes, that silky, fair halo of hair...

"Natalia! Are you ready to go?" And Lovino is right in front of me.

"Uh, yeah," I say, jumping. "Are Ludwig and Feliciano ready, too?"

"They said they're getting a ride home from Ludwig's older brother, so we can head out without them."

I open the door, and a blast of frigid air rushes in. Someone - drunk - shouts, "Close that door!" And Lovino and I hurry out. The lawns are still packed with people though the air is biting cold. I wrap my hands around my arms and shiver.

"Take my jacket," Lovino says, handing it to me.

"Are you - are you sure?"

"Yes, ragazza! Don't worry about it."

"O-oh, thanks," I say sheepishly.

"No problem. I saw you chatting with Toris. What did he want, another date?"

"Not important," I say. "Anyway, I got a job here. Cool, right?"

Lovino raises an eyebrow as we step into his car and he turns the heat on full blast. "A job? Doing...?"

"Housekeeping work."

"Hmm. Working for Matthew, huh?"

"Well, mostly Alfred. I assume."

"You know what they say about assuming, Natalia?"

"No, what?"

"It makes an 'ass' out of 'u' and 'me.'"

I sigh. "Okay, Lovino, whatever. What's so bad about it?"

"I didn't say anything was wrong," Lovino says. "Just that"- he breaks off. "Nevermind."

I switch topics. "So, did you see Antonio?"

The rest of the car ride is taken up with petty arguing about Spaniards, Lovino denying things, talk of making out, Russian men, and other weird topics that only Lovino and I could even think of talking about. He drops me off at my house. The light is on, so I know Mama is home. She's not expecting me, though; I told her I wouldn't be home until twelve, maybe, and it's only 10:30. I take my house key and slip into the apartment.

Loud noises and commotion are coming from down the hall.

"Mama?" I call, and the noises stop abruptly. I hear someone - a man - say, "Shit, shit," and Mama's voice replying with, "Oh my God- Shhh!"

I narrow my eyes. "Hello?"

Mama pokes her head out of her bedroom door. "Natalia, I really need you to leave right now, okay?"

"Is everything"-

"No questions, please," she begs. Her hair is messed up, and I see a pleading on her face that I can't really describe. "Just, please, come back in fifteen minutes, okay?"

I frown and turn on my heel, shutting the door behind me.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hello, friends! Sorry that I've been completely motivation-dead on this story, but I tried, at least, to write a chapter. So, please review and all that. Also, does anyone know what the Netherlands' human name is? I've found a couple different ones, but I'm wondering which one is used the most. **

Chapter 5: All That I Said

I was in no mood to see Mama after the aforementioned after-party incident, so I called Lovino and asked if I could spend the night at his house. Somewhat awkwardly, he agreed, and it wasn't until I he picked me up that I realized why.

"Natty! Hello!"

_Antonio_ is in the car with Lovino. Oh, this is just too good to be true. I'm going to make fun of Lovino for this forever... but on to more pressing matters.

"Hey, Toni," I say casually, flipping my hair over one shoulder. I smile at Lovino. "So, I didn't know you and Toni were going to be hanging out after the party."

Lovino's face flushes. "Fuck off, Natalia. I - I wasn't"-

I feign disinterest and flutter my left hand. "Oh, I don't care about your love life with Toni at all, Lovino. Anyways, here's your jacket back. And thanks for coming to pick me up." I just had time to change into a pair of jeans, a sweatshirt, and some ballet flats.

Lovino backs out of the apartment's parking lot. "Right, right, why the hell did you need me to get you, anyway?"

I frown, this time for real. "My mother... well, she... was behaving weirdly. I'm done with her. First she's an alcoholic, which is already bad enough, then earlier this week she told me she got a job, and I come home, and she's just banging strangers."

There is a silence in the car, and I realize everything I've just said. All those unspoken words were broken, sharp things floating in the air, but now that I've voiced them, the shards have fallen from the sky and speared me in the heart. There is a shocked air in the car. Lovino knows my mother isn't very attentive, though not to this extent, and I barely know Antonio. We've talked a few times, but I don't know any of the basic friend info (i.e. middle name, favorite color, etc.), and I just went and told him my mother's life story. Shit.

Lovino stomps on the gas. "I..."

"I'm sorry," I blurt quickly. "No, just forget I said anything."

Antonio sounds unusually serious. "Natty, your father"-

"My father is dead," I say dully. "It's just her. And me. Really, just me, I guess. I don't want to talk about it."

"Natalia," Lovino chokes out finally, and he actually sounds close to tears. "I'm sorry."

* * *

When we get to the Vargas's house, Ludwig and Feliciano have returned home, much to Lovino's frustration. "Where the hell is everyone supposed to sleep, huh?"

"I'll take the couch," I offer, but Antonio protests, saying I should get one of the two guest rooms. I tell him it's fine - a couch is not the worst place I've ever had to sleep - but Ludwig cuts in and says, "I'm not staying the night, Lovino. Don't worry."

"Well, then, where the hell are you going? Because it's eleven o'clock, and"-

"I'm meeting Ivan Braginsky," Ludwig scoffs. "I'm sure I'll be okay."

I snap to attention. "Ivan? Can I come with you?"

"You, out on the streets this late?" Antonio asks, his voice concerned. "That's probably not a good idea."

I shove my hands into the pocket of my sweatshirt. "I don't think you realize what I'm capable of."

Lovino snorts. "She's actually right, Antonio. But, potato bastard, what do you need to see Ivan for? Feliciano, cover your ears."

"We're just going to talk about some stuff. It's none of your concern," Ludwig answers, seemingly bored. "Anyways, thanks for letting me stop by. Bye, Feliciano. Natalia, I don't think you should come along. I highly suggest you stay here. Goodbye. I'll see you all at school on Monday." With that, he slips out the front door, a wisp of smoke curling into the Halloween night.

"No," I say, more to myself than anyone else. "No, I'm following him."

"Ragazza! Just stay here, will you?" Lovino snaps. "I know you want to be all dramatic and follow Ludwig so you can get to your Russian, but I'm betting the potato bastard is caught up in some shady shit. Don't get involved. Secondly - Feliciano! How could you let him into the house? He is a crazy, crazy man..." Lovino becomes preoccupied with yelling at his brother, and I'm about to leave when I feel a hand close around my wrist.

Antonio. Right. He's still here.

"You're not really going to go, are you?" he asks.

I do something my mother did to me once, even though I swore I would never be like her. I draw a finger to my lips, the motion people make when they shush people, and whisper, "If I'm not back by morning, call the cops."

Then I shift out the door, glad that the streetlights are bright, and break into a sprint, hoping Ludwig isn't too far ahead.

I catch up with him after a couple minutes of intense jogging, and I duck behind a row of hedges in someone's front yard, slinking after him, staying low to the ground. It's near midnight, so it's dark enough that he won't see me, but if I make any noises or throw myself right in his sight, obviously he'll know I'm there.

The streetlight turns his hair silver, and his footsteps on the sidewalk are the only noise besides the occasional car rumbling by. Trick-or-treating kids went to bed hours ago. It's just Ludwig, me, and a row of chest-high hedges separating us.

He walks for quite some time, and it's tedious for me to go running from tree to bush to keep concealed, so once the row of hedges ends, I just walk silently behind him, a good fifty meters of distance between us. If he sees me, it's really too late for him to tell me to go back to Lovino's.

We finally arrive at the destination. I check my watch - 11:57. Three minutes until midnight. Midnight on Halloween. I'm not superstitious, but I'm walking around on the streets at midnight on Halloween, just to see Ivan. I am an idiot.

I frown. I can hear music playing, carrying on the night air, and I realize where we are. A mansion rises on the horizon, a few cars still parked in the winding, flat driveway, the glass windshields glittering in the moonlight.

Ludwig has led me back to Alfred's house.

I curse silently - once at Ludwig for inadvertently bringing me here; once at myself for being so clueless as to follow him here.

Though I don't want to, I walk inside the same grand entrance door I walked through a few hours ago. Signs of the party are still there. Half-finished beer bottles sit on tabletops and windowsills, empty red cups litter the floor. The speakers are still playing music, though it's soft. There are still various people in the house, most of whom I don't know. It doesn't take me long to realize that this isn't a party anymore.

It's something much more dangerous.


End file.
